“I’ll be all right!” shouted Trim.
He dashed to the spot where he had been lying, picked up his spyglass and started back to the raft.
Just as he was stooping to pick up the glass the elephant appeared over the brow of the knoll. He was trumpeting madly and swinging his trunk from side to side.
Trim’s foot caught in a vine as he neared the water’s edge and he fell full length. The elephant saw him and he came tearing down the slope after him.
“Lord save us!” cried Dobbin. “He’ll stamp the poor lad’s life out!”
Trim was on his feet in an instant, and facing the giant beast.
He drew his revolver, although he knew how poor a weapon it was in fighting such an animal.
A pistol bullet could not do more than pierce the tough skin of the creature. Nevertheless, he shot and his hand was never steadier or his nerves cooler.
The elephant rose on his hind legs, trumpeting with pain. Trim had put out one of his eyes.